Come Morning Light
by sarahserenity6296
Summary: After a plan to get rid of Klaus goes horribly wrong, Elena is faced with the hardest goodbye of all. In their last moments together, can she finally admit her feelings for Damon? One-shot. -COMPLETE-


_"Don't you dare look out your window darling  
>Everything's on fire<br>The war outside our door keeps raging on  
>Hold onto this lullaby<br>Even when the music's gone_

_Just close your eyes_  
><em>The sun is going down<em>  
><em>You'll be alright<em>  
><em>No one can hurt you now<em>  
><em>Come morning light<em>  
><em>You and I'll be safe and sound"<em>

_-"Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift_

Elena Gilbert drug his limp body into the parlor of the Salvatore Boarding House, barely able to hold both of their body weight. She was exhausted, mentally and physically, and more than anything, she was terrified. Terrified that when this night was over, she would have no one left. When the sun rose, would she wish she were dead too? Surely he wouldn't kill her. That would be too kind. He would take everything from her.

She slipped on a pool of blood- whose she didn't know- and fell to the ground. She landed on her butt, with him in her lap. His injuries were so great, so unrepairable, she wasn't sure he would still be breathing when she looked at him.

He was though. By some miracle, his mutilated chest was still rising and falling, supplying him with just enough oxygen to survive. If he had been human, he would have been long dead. If he had been human, his heart would have stopped beating the moment that- that _monster_ had shoved his hand into his chest cavity, damaging it behind repair. If he were human, her simply holding his heart inside his chest wouldn't have been enough.

If it weren't for the dying boy in her arms, she would laughed at the irony. Damon had always joked about her having his heart in the palm of her hands. Now she really did. Her hand holding his heart in his chest was the only thing that was keeping him from dying.

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she was the one in his arms dying instead of the other way around. It was her fault, after all. She was the reason everything she'd ever loved had died or was dying. Her parents, Jenna, John- they'd all died because she was stupid and selfish. She should have given herself to Klaus. She should never have thought they had a chance against him. Over and over, they went after him. Over and over, they devised seemingly flawless plans and over and over, they failed. And now because of their last plan, her friends were outside dying.

She'd thought it would work. She and Stefan both were so sure that this was what would finally rid them of Klaus. Stefan had called her later on that faithful night of homecoming, when all hope was lost. He'd told her of his plan to lure Klaus back to Chicago where his family was laying helplessly in coffins, unable to defend themselves.

"_Damon can't know about this," Stefan had said, gesturing to the four coffins in his old apartment in Chicago, back from his Ripper days. _

"_I don't think we should keep this from him," Elena said, a horrible feeling creeping into her stomach. _

"_No else can know about this," Stefan said, coming to stand in front of her. His stance was meant to intimidate her, make her feel dominated. She'd spent too many nights in his warm, soft arms to truly fear him. _

"_How do you know this will work?" she asked defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "How do you know it won't fail like every other plan we've ever made to get rid of Klaus?"_

"_Before, we were stupid," Stefan said. "We were misinformed, misguided. So desperate to kill him we overlooked crucial flaws."_

_She felt anger bubbling in her chest. She had kept it under the surface for so long, her walls holding it up were crumbling down. "The last plan would have worked perfectly if you hadn't screwed everything up!" she screamed, clenching her hands into fist. She wanted so badly to hit him, to make him suffer for what he'd done to them all. _

"_I wanted my freedom, Elena," he deadpanned, unaffected by her outburst. "Isn't that what you want? Freedom? Wouldn't you do anything for it?"_

"_I wouldn't betray my friends and family," she spat, disgusted by the person standing in front of her. She knew in her heart that she would never love Stefan the way she had before. He was a monster and she couldn't love a monster._

_He cocked his head to the side. "You look at me with so much judgment in your eyes," he said slowly. "You look at me like I'm a monster."_

"_Because you are," she said. "You were willing to risk your friends- your own brother!- for your freedom."_

"_If that's your definition of a monster, then maybe you should make sure your own hands are clean before you start pointing at me," Stefan said. "How many people have risked their lives so you can have yours? How many people have died for you? You think about that and tell me you aren't just as much of a monster, by your definition, as I am."_

And Stefan was right. She was a monster. She was the reason her friends were outside those doors, dying at the hands of Klaus and his hybrid puppets.

She should have known. She should have known Klaus was going to break his word. Still, they had both stupidly thought he would hold up his end of the deal: leave them alone in exchange for his family. She had truly believed it would work. She had believed up until the moment Klaus ripped Stefan's heart right out of his chest. She'd barely had enough time to get into her car and call Damon to warn them what was coming.

She'd arrived just in time to see Klaus plunge his hand into Damon's chest. If it weren't for Caroline pulling Klaus off him, Damon would have died right there. It was a miracle itself that Elena had somehow gotten to him just as he hit the ground, just in time to plunge her hand in the hole Klaus had made in his chest to hold his heart in place.

A sob ripped through her as she thought of everything that had gotten her here. She thought of everything thing she could have done differently to avoid this gruesome end, but it was useless. This was how it was going to end.

She knew for as long as she lived, she would torture herself over this night.

She was so deep in her own pain and misery, she hadn't notice Damon open his eyes. "Elena," he whispered.

She gasped. The surprise made her hand shift just slightly, but it was enough to pull a groan from his lips. "Damon?" she asked, looking down at him.

He moved his head to the side and up just enough to be able to look into her eyes. His face was covered in blood, his hair matted to his forehead. There was a gash down the side of his face that indicated the fighting had started long before she had gotten there.

He scrunched his dark eyebrows over his gorgeous blue eyes. "Ouch," he said roughly.

If she wasn't terrified that any slight movement would hurt him worse, she would have laughed. He had literally woken up with his heart in her hands and the only thing he could think to say was "ouch."

As if reading her mind, he looked down at his chest. After taking in the blood and mutilated skin and her hand, he looked up at her, lips slightly parted. "I've fantasized about waking up in your arms quite a few times, but I have to say it was never like this," he joked.

An awful sound ripped itself from her throat, her eyes blurring.

"Hey," he said softly. He slowly lifted his hand to her face, pushing back a strand of her hair. "Don't cry, Elena."

"I'm so sorry, Damon," she cried, her throat so tight she could barely get the words out. "This is my fault."

He shook his head slightly. "No," he said. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this."

How could he expect her not to? This _was_ her fault. Her choices were what put them here. Her choices, her secrets, her decisions. "I shouldn't have listened to Stefan," she cried. "I should have told you what he had planned. I should have-"

"Shh," he said, closing his eyes. For one awful second, she thought he was dead. She thought she would never see his enchanting blue eyes ever again. But his eyelids slowly reopened and she cried in relief.

"Oh god," she said. "How do I fix this? Tell me what I need to do."

The sadness that filled his eyes was answer enough.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No. There has to be something. You can drink my blood or-"

He shook his head, his eyes growing more sad and more tired as she continued. "Everyone dies, darling," he said finally.

The term of endearment ripped her heart into pieces. "Not you," she said, more tears spilling down her cheeks. "You're immortal."

He laughed softly. "Elena," he said. "You should know by now immortality doesn't exist. Everyone dies at some point. Whether it's fifty years too early or five hundred years too late, everyone dies."

"It's not fair," she said. "What was the point of turning into a vampire if you were only going to die before you've even really lived?"

His lips pulled up at the corners and his eyes soften. "I've lived, Elena," he said softly.

"You spent the last century heart broken over someone who never loved you in the first place," Elena said. "Someone who turned you against your own brother and tore you apart from the inside out."

"That's true," he admitted, "but all that pain and anger led me here to Mystic Falls. To you and my brother and Alaric. Elena, I was broken beyond repair when I came here. But somehow, slowly, you and Stefan fixed me. It was so subtle, I didn't know it was happening until I was already fixed. In the last two years, I've repaired my relationship with Stefan. I've forged bonds with people that won't break, even after I'm gone. And more importantly, I have loved- truly loved- someone with my entire heart and soul."

Her breath caught in her throat at his words.

"I have to say this, Elena," Damon said slowly, but surely. In that moment, gazing into his warm blue eyes, the sound of the battle raging outside faded into the background. All there was was this moment, here, with Damon."I love you. And it's not because you look like Katherine. It's because you are complicated and smart and funny and infuriating and selfless. It's because you're the only person in the entire world that gets me completely and accepts me, no questions asked. It's because you're the only person I want to see when I'm having a bad day because I know, I _know_ that just seeing your smile or hearing your laugh will make everything better."

"Damon, I-"

"No," he said. "Let me finish. I know you don't love me. I know it's always been Stefan for you. But you know what? That's okay. It's okay to love someone who doesn't love you back as long as they deserve it. You deserve it, Elena."

She wonders what she would have said or done if he had told her this when he wasn't lying in her arms dying. Would she have told him she loved Stefan? Would she have been at a lost for words? Would she have still felt the warmth she felt in her chest now? Would she have leaned down and kissed him like she did now?

His lips were cracked and tasted like blood, but when their skin touched a fire ignited on her skin, unlike anything she had ever felt before. She was no longer hesitant as her tongue touched his lips, begging him to part them. He did and they explored each other in a way that they never thought they would. She kissed him until she couldn't breath.

When she opened her eyes to look into his, he was looking at her so adoringly, she wished she would have kissed him before today. Where would they be right now if she had simply admitted her feelings for him instead of hiding?

She would never know, and that brought on a fresh wave of tears.

"I love you too, Damon," she said. And she meant it. Deep down in her heart, she'd always known she loved Damon. It had just taken her until this moment to admit it.

He sighed and closed his eyes, smiling softly. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that."

"You can't die on me," she whispered. "I can't live without you."

His eyes were still closed as he said, "Yes, you can. You lived seventeen years before you met me and you were fine."

"That's because I'd never met you!"

His eyes opened, suddenly very serious. "Will you promise me something?" he whispered.

"Of course," she said, running a hand through his raven hair.

"Don't let this night define you. You have a very long life ahead of you and you have to live it. You have earned the right to live it. Don't let what happens tonight break you. Promise me you'll move on. Promise me you'll go to college and get married and have a bunch of children."

She tried to imagine the future he was describing. Getting accepted into Columbia or NYU and meeting the man of her dreams. She imagined marrying him and having children and those children having children. She imagined sixty years from now sitting on a swing watching her grandchildren play in the backyard.

The image was horribly wrong, but nevertheless she would promise. She would do all of that for him, anything for him. If this was his dying wish, she would honor it. "I promise," she whispered, kissing the top of his head.

A weight seemed to lift off of his shoulders. He relaxed into her, his body perfectly still. He eyelids grew heavy and a sigh escaped his lips. "I'm so tired," he whispered. "So, so tired."

"I know," she said softly, tears rolling down her cheeks. She kissed his head and ran her hand through his hair, cherishing this moment- knowing it was their last. "Close your eyes. Everything will be okay. I promise."

Very slowly, she pulled her hand from his chest and picked up his right hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Elena," he whispered, barely audible.

"Yes, Damon?" she asked.

"I'm so glad I met you."

"Me too," she said. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

"Loving you- it was the one right thing I did in a lifetime of wrong."

"No need to worry about that anymore," she whispered, holding onto him so tightly, it seemed impossible that he was so close to leaving her. If she held on tight enough, would he stay?

"Don't forget about me, okay?"

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," she promised. "Go to sleep now, honey. I'll see you again sooner than you think."

With one final smile and sigh, his body went limp.

* * *

><p><strong>I know, I know. A rather morbid story for Christmas time. What can I say? The moment I heard "Safe and Sound" by Taylor Swift this idea popped into my head.<strong>

**For those of you following any of my other stories, they will be updated sometime this week. **

**Feedback is always lovely :D**


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